


A Uniform to go With That Agreement

by H4T08



Series: Behind the Door [1]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: An Agreement, F/M, The Beginning, The caretaker - Freeform, Two Captains, Uniforms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 14:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11419707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/H4T08/pseuds/H4T08
Summary: Reading the card at least five times, he is delaying the inevitable of opening what he knows to find in the box. The adage, ‘you can take the boy out of Starfleet, but you can never take Starfleet out of the boy’ bounces about in his head. Taking a deep breath, he opens the box with slightly shaky fingers.Bright and gaudy against the sterile box, is a Starfleet uniform. The same one he gladly left behind when his people were unjustly killed by the Cardassians. But there are no Cardassians out here. Just his crew and her crew and an unknown plethora of undiscovered aliens. Some that will be friendly, like the Ocampa, and some that will be enemies, like the Kazon.Digging his fingers under the staunch uniform, he is surprised at the heaviness of it with both, the dense material and the burden of the command color. Red. Funny enough, my favorite color.





	A Uniform to go With That Agreement

**Author's Note:**

> This is both my first Voyager story as well as my first story posted on this site! (Better late than never, right?!?) No beta was used, so all mistakes are mine!
> 
> Part of the 'Behind the Door' series.
> 
> This takes place the night before the last scene from the Caretaker episode. You know, the time between the Maquis wearing their rebel clothing and then magically changing into Starfleet uniforms. Here's my take on the conversation between Janeway and Chakotay on the Starfleet uniforms and how she asked him to be her First Officer.
> 
> Words in italics are the characters own thoughts.

Caretaker 

“There are somethings that never change,” Chakotay remarks as he looks down the corridor. The panels, the metal, even the ugly colored carpet has stayed the same. _The only thing that changes are the people who walk past it_ , he silently adds secretly glancing over at the woman walking next to him.

“The major changes are the ones you can't see, the ones behind the walls. Compared to other ‘fleet ships, she's the newest kid on the block.” Kathryn puffs out her chest in pride. Despite their predicament, she is glad that they are in this particular ship. After numerous promises to take care of her, she has done her job and taken care of them. She just hopes that Voyager will continue to do the job she was meant to do since touring her at Utopia Planitia. “And also the fastest.” She feels his eyes on her and matches his gaze.

He remains quiet, unsure of where she wants to go with this conversation. He doesn't want to beg for passage on her ship, but if they are to make it back to the Alpha Quadrant, then he is not dense enough to know that they will need to combine their efforts. He doesn't want to show his vulnerability when she already has a vice grip over his balls – figuratively speaking of course.

“Our crew compliment of 142 went down to 126 when the Caretaker brought us here.” Her Starfleet crew would be able to survive – barely – if they were left to their own devices, but she knows as well as he, that they need to combine forces and crews to safely get back home.

“We lost ten good people when the Caretaker brought us over.” The burden of loss is something he never liked of his position, but it was always part of the job you took. _You can't lead a squadron into war and be arrogant enough to think that there won't be casualties. There are always casualties._

She knows she has to be the one to speak first of the truth that lies thickly between the two leaders. “If we are to make it home, then we will need to work together as one unit.”

He knows what she is implying, yet he questions it anyways, “One unit?”

 _It has to be this way_ , she reasons to herself. “As one Starfleet unit.”

“With the exception of Tuvok, no one else on my team will like that.” With the knowledge that all of them come from backgrounds that are not favorable to a ‘fleeter’s eyes, the transition will be difficult. Not impossible, just difficult.

 _Yet, he doesn't include himself in that assessment_ , she silently surmises. “You have command experience?”

Her question throws him for a loop. “Yes, why?”

Stopping in front of a pair of doors, she flicks her wrist and instead answers, “These will be your temporary quarters. Once decisions are made and the dust has settled a bit, we will be accommodating you and your crew into more permanent quarters.” Pressing her key entry, the door springs open and she invites him in. “Inside, you will find my answer to your previous question.” She bows her head, “Good evening, Mr. Chakotay.” She takes a few steps away before she stops. A tiny seed of fear refuses to slide down her throat as the destruction of the Caretaker’s Array once again plays in her mind. Glancing over her shoulder, she murmurs, “Thank you for having my back on the bridge.”

Brows widening in shock, he watches her walk away from him towards where ever she is going to next. Just as she turns the corner, he shuffles into his own quarters. Unbuckling his vest, he sighs out loud as it slides off of his shoulders. The weight of everything leading up to this exact moment weighs heavily and, for the first time in a long time, he mentally acknowledges that he is exhausted.

Throwing his vest on one of the ugly, Starfleet issued chairs, he takes a look around. That is when he sees it. A simple box, white with no frills, sitting on a table. Stepping up to it, he opens the card first.

 

_Dear Mr. Chakotay,_

_Inside is a token of peace between our two crews. At first, I'm sure you'll be angry, even wanting to throw it out of an airlock. (They are sealed by the way.) But, I would like for you to consider what is in this box as a way for both of our crews to come together and to work side-by-side with each other. I'm not ignorant to the fact that there will not be fights and scuffles, but with your acceptance, I am sure that others will follow with better confidence with both of us a united front. From what I have read, you are a good leader who demands structure and earns respect. Starfleet will provide the structure and, in time, you will earn the respect from everyone you serve with – ‘fleeters and Maquis alike._

_I await your answer,_  
Captain Kathryn Janeway  
U.S.S. Voyager

 

Reading the card at least five times, he is delaying the inevitable of opening what he knows to find in the box. The adage, ‘you can take the boy out of Starfleet, but you can never take Starfleet out of the boy’ bounces about in his head. Taking a deep breath, he opens the box with slightly shaky fingers.

Bright and gaudy against the sterile box, is a Starfleet uniform. The same one he gladly left behind when his people were unjustly killed by the Cardassians. But there are no Cardassians out here. Just his crew and her crew and an unknown plethora of undiscovered aliens. Some that will be friendly, like the Ocampa, and some that will be enemies, like the Kazon.

Digging his fingers under the staunch uniform, he is surprised at the heaviness of it with both, the dense material and the burden of the command color. Red. _Funny enough, my favorite color_.

Tucked in the collar is another note.

 

_If you accept to be united with me, I will grant you the field commission of Commander. If you accept to be united with me, I will chose you to stand beside me as my First Officer. If you wish to not accept, then I will endeavor to accommodate your crew to the best of my ability._

_Kathryn_

 

More personal than the first one, he reads it again to better understand what is being said between the lines. She needs him and it's as simple as that.

Before he accepts, before he even puts on the uniform, he has to negotiate for his crew. They are a smaller compliment, but they were hand chosen by him because of their skills. He will not relegate them to the bottom of the totem pole just because they used their expertise for a worthier cause.

If, and only if, she sees that, will he accept.

With no time to spare, he calls out to the computer, “Location of Janeway.”

“Captain Janeway is in her quarters.”

 _Great, even the computer salutes her_. “Where are her quarters located?”

“Deck three, forward section.”

Gripping the thick uniform within his palm, he walks out and makes his way there. Taking what little time he has between their quarters, he thinks of who he would recommend for key positions. He knows that he won't get his way on all of them – _there is a certain order to all things Starfleet_ – but they have got to have an equal balance in all areas of the ship, senior officers included.

Stepping up to her door, he presses the button to signal his presence. When he doesn't hear it chime like it's supposed to, he tries other buttons. With none of them making noises, he thinks back to the last ship he served before leaving Starfleet. There was an order of buttons to push to open the door if it was sealed and they needed to get in. He never had to use it, but it was a safety precaution that only the Captain, First Officer, Chief Medical Officer, and Chief of Security knew.

Putting it in, he is actually surprised that it worked when the door springs open. Peeking in, he calls out, “Captain Janeway?” When he doesn't hear anything, he timidly steps in and says, “Your chime does not work.” Sharply looking behind him when the door closes, he spies around the room to see where she could have gone to. Her cabin, though sparse, is messy with items tossed about.

Just as he does his second pass through, something catches his eye. Stepping over a few pillows, he digs out a golden picture frame from underneath some soil from a potted plant that fell. Wiping it off, he sees her and a woman that looks like her staring back at him.

“That's my sister.”

He nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears her voice from behind him. The picture frame slips from his fingers and lands on his bare foot, though thankfully the frame stay intact. Mumbling a few choice words, that would make B’Elanna blush, under his breath, he picks up the frame and turns towards her. There, he nearly lets it fall again when he sees her.

Her hair is in a messy bun with strands of loose hair hanging down and plastered to her neck. She is only dressed in a cream colored silk robe that leaves very little to the imagination as it sticks to her wet body. The only bit of cover she gives herself is her arms crossed against her chest. The hem falls just short of the middle of her thigh, giving him exclusive access to the length of her sculpted legs.

“I, uhhh,” he stutters, “I tried to, uhhh, ring.” _Not the man willing to fight to the death against her a few days ago_. He knows he sounds pathetic, but he reasons with himself that he is a man who has not thought about, much less seen, a beautiful woman since before their scuffle with Gul Evek.

She rolls her eyes at his obvious attention, but keeps her place framed in the doorway leading to her bedroom. “I know. I heard you the first time. Our trip over here must have fried a few circuits. In all honesty, it's not very high on the repairs list.” Glancing at the red and black uniform clutched in his hand, she tips her head towards it and asks, “Do you have concerns you wish to discuss?”

Shaking his mind of the hormones that are wrecking havoc all over his body, he takes a deep breath and grits his teeth, “Yes, there are a few things I want to discuss before I accept.”

Lifting her brow, she affirms, “These are your non-negotiables?”

He answers with his first term, "If you want me to be a part of this crew, then my crew has to be integrated throughout the ship.” He takes a swift breath. “I have a good crew. They are smart in what they do. Just because they chose not to go to Starfleet Academy, does not mean they cannot handle extraordinary tasks and responsibilities.”

Tightening her arms against her chest, she straightens herself to bring her up to her full height. "I will never not consider them, especially if they qualify for the job, but I refuse to demote an officer just for the sake of putting someone else in that place. These people worked just as hard to get to the position they are at.”

After a moment, he nods his head. “Agreed to a certain extent.”

Resisting the urge to plant her hands on her waist, she instead lifts her chin. “We will play it fair here. All those who wish to stay on this ship will have to follow the Starfleet parameters and rules that come with the uniform that I expect them to wear. They will all receive a field rank based on their prior history on your ship as well their skill set. Just like everyone else, they will have to prove their worth by their workmanship and the way they carry themselves.”

Despite the seriousness of their negotiation, she gives him a small smile to help him feel at ease, “Just like you, I run a tight ship and, although, most of them will find it hard at first, I expect to be given same respect they give to you.” Just as he is about to interrupt, she holds up one hand to stop him and adds, “In return, I will assure you, that you and your crew will be given the same respect and courtesy.”

Trying very hard not to stare at the small v-patch of skin that divots down between her breasts, he states the obvious reaction, "A lot of my people will not put on that uniform without a fight.” A certain half Klingon woman comes to mind. “Some of my people only have hatred in their hearts for Starfleet and the Federation.”

“If they want to survive just long enough to make it back home, they will have to make concessions.” With one arm down by her side, she consciously allows the other one to fall as well. Never daring to show him her embarrassment – _I'm not afraid of him!_ – she keeps her chin held high, even though she notices his eyes dart down towards her chest. “It isn't just your crew that is hostile towards me for the decision I made. The animosity is all around from both crews, even bleeding into this room.” For the first time, she bares her vulnerability to him. _It's a chance move but_ , she reasons, _he's got to be able to trust me_. “If all of us are to survive, we have to depend on each other no matter which ship we came in.”

 _The need to live outweighs the desire for revenge against a set of people – both Cardassian and Federation – that are seventy thousand light years away. It isn't about justice anymore, it's about living to wake up one day closer to home, to loved ones._ "Then I accept your offer to be your First Officer.”

Nodding her head, relief floods through her veins, making her light headed.

He notices that she becomes pale and sways a bit. Concerned, he tucks the frame in his other arm as he rushes forward and places his free hand on her shoulder. An electrical current, weak and undefined, flows between their touch. Glancing down at the source, his eyes catch the gleam of creamy skin that curves just below her robe. He knows that it is inappropriate to look, but the current of electricity from their touch has short circuited the rational part of his brain.

Surprised at how warm his hand feels against her covered skin, the logical part of her brain yells at her to quickly step away from him. Although he has just pledged his allegiance, he is still dangerous. _But you thrive on danger_ , a little voice inside her head sneers. _You need it just as much as your lungs need oxygen_. Flicking her eyes up so that she is staring into his warm honey irises, she murmurs, “Will you mutiny against me?”

Her voice is fragile and it makes him tighten his hold on her shoulder. “Not for the sake of the Maquis.” Her eyes, sapphire windows to the depths of her souls, tells him that she also feels the current running between them. “If we are to survive, then we have to depend on each other. I will honorably keep my word.”

Silently nodding, she takes a step back allowing cool air to rush between their bodies. “Here’s to survival.”

Dropping his hand from her shoulder and instantly feeling the numbness prickle along his finger tips at the loss of electricity, he pulls the frame from his other hand to give to her. “Here's to finding our way back home.” Looking down at his new uniform as silence permeates between them, he quips to fill to awkward void, “It seems they have made these uniforms thicker and itchier since I left.”

Stretching her lips into a smile, the first genuine one in a long time, she quickly replies, "Well not everyone can pull off leather." Clutching her picture frame to her chest as his laughter fills her quarters, she says, “We will discuss crew assignments tomorrow morning at 0900 in my Ready Room. Hopefully that will give you enough time to talk to your crew and to gage who is on board.”

“I assure you, everyone will be on board,” he gives her a crooked smile that showcase his dimples. Just as he sees her dismissal on her lips, he tips his head, “Goodnight,” he says as he makes his way out of her quarters.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for giving this story a chance! There are a lot more stories to go with this series. Please tell me what you think!


End file.
